Matsumoto [Part 2]
After the wasabi farm we headed back to Matsumoto where we located our ryokan for the night. A ryokan is the traditional Japanese inn, are generally found in older cities and are traditionally crazy-expensive. We found this one for $60/night (each) and that included a Japanese breakfast in the morning!
We’ll go ahead and call it a smokin deal.
So these ryokan – they’re not like hotel rooms as we know them. They size is measured by how many tatami mats you can fit on the floor, and instead of a bed you have futons on the floor. (these fold out)
I hadn’t really expected to stay in the “lap of luxury” for $60/night, but I also was a little nervous about how comfortable sleeping on the floor could be. Boy, was I wrong. I don’t know how they do it, but these little guys are like nests of love.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. When you get to the ryokan, they ask you to take your shoes off at the door and they give you slippers. There’s a 3 room dining area where you fill out your paperwork (and also where breakfast is served in the morning).
There’s a little zen garden in the middle. I wonder how many buildings we pass have this hollowed out center to let nature in? It’s one of those things I would have never guessed existed from the exterior of the building.
There’s a house bath and a house shower, (though since there were only 8 rooms, we didn’t really have to wait long for them) and two sets of toilets. Very small. After the proprietress showed us around, she brought us to our rooms where we mistakenly walked right in with our slippered feet. Silly us. You take the inside slippers off before you enter the bedroom. (You also take them off before entering the bathroom too. There are usually separate slippers provided for these rooms.) The japanese must have deep seeded fears of their feet getting cold.
The room was really cute. There were two sliding doors to get in, acting as a shoe-chamber. On the opposite side of the (very humble) room was the window that overlooked the streets and the river. For insulation I presume, there were four different screens to slide open before you reached daylight.
They also gave you robes to wear while you were there, and in the halls you’d see the other guests shuffling around in them. Very different than what we’re used to. I’m glad we got to experience it.
Jon is, of course, much too tall for everything here. (the sticker says “mind your head” but is chin-height for him!)
Now that we’re settled in, we head off to explore a bit. We’re at a bit of an impasse with our eating establishments. We like to eat at challenging restaurants. Places with character. We like to allow the chef to cook for us, what s/he cooks best. I think in america, this is well accepted and is a mark of pride for a lot of great chefs. In japan, it’s tricky. We WANT to eat at the good places, that are frequented by the locals. But honestly, they scare the shit out of us. Logically we know that the worst that can happen is they tell us to go away (there aren’t any anti-racism laws here). But even assuming we get in the restaurant, it’s really difficult to convey that we WILL eat whatever you put in front of us – just make it good. you know? ugh. I get frustrated and tangential about this.
The point of the story is that we heard of this particular restaurant. Armed with a general idea of its location, and the proper kanji to look for on the store-sign, we actually found it. And then we stood outside for a few minutes, paced, and tried to work up the courage to go in. It sounds stupid, I know. But imagine that you’re standing at an essentially unmarked door that very well looks like it could go into someone’s living room. Inside you hear salarymen laughing loudly, having a great time in what is very likely a 10 foot square room. You know that as soon as you slide open the door, all eyes will go to you and, because you’re a 25 year old white girl, they’ll probably keep staring at you.
Okay. so we do it. Open the door…. and the place is PACKED. There are people everywhere. The chef (who speaks some english) tells us their full – he’s very sorry. bah!
After battling with some disappointment issues, we finally head off to our second choice – kura, who’s known for their local specialty basashi, or raw and thinly sliced horse meat.
I also had some taru-sake (aged in cedar so it has a really manly, smoky, woodsy quality) out of the traditional wooden box, or masu.
Dinner was good. I wouldn’t call it earth shattering or ground breaking, but it was good.
Tomorrow we get to the main attraction, but this was our sneak-peak for the night:
